


Dual

by WingRider



Category: Gundam Wing, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 19:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingRider/pseuds/WingRider
Summary: Duo Maxwell may run and hide, but he never tells a lie. Sometimes though, he creates a truth. Like, how he is not Duo Maxwell anymore, he's Cherep, and eventually he's Skull. Future Slash. T for language, but may go up in rating.





	1. Prologue

Posted 4 August 2019

Summary: Duo Maxwell may run and hide, but he never tells a lie. Sometimes though, he creates a truth. Like, how he is not Duo Maxwell anymore, he's Cherep, and eventually he's Skull. Eventual Slash.

-/-start-/-

It starts with an itch.

It is like an ever present, constant presence that physically makes him cringe.

Every time he would be enclosed in a space with other people, every time he was told to be here or there at a certain time, and every time at the most inane moments.

It starts suddenly, and he is not quite sure what to do with it.

People used to be a comfort to him. As a child, he had lived on the streets of the colony L2, and he was quite often alone. Staying with Father Maxwell had taught him a healthy respect and appreciation for those with genuine kindness and taught him the safety of a roof over his head. Staying with Solo had given him a name and a purpose, and it taught him that trust is hard earned and nothing is permanent. Staying with the Professor, well, that had taught him that everything had a price.

He met the Professor on the edge of starvation. At that point, he looked like a typical L2 child. Homeless, in threadbare clothing that covered the effects of long-term starvation: a distended stomach; bald patches and straw like hair; and tooth decay. He had been something that people would look away from, ignore, because he was bruised, bloodied, and beaten. The Professor saved him by correcting the damage done, gave him a new purpose, and taught him the skills to do it.

He made him a child soldier and a terrorist, depending on who was asked.

The less said about the other pilots, the better. They were brothers-in-arms, in a vague sense. No one could fight that close to people, experience that much trauma, without connecting to them on a level deeper than other friendships. They were family, he supposed, in a way, but he had always been different. They all had been taught and were tied to their morals and expectations after the war, despite their traumas. The actions they had took were not justified reactions in times of peace.

He was not sure he agreed.

The others had that sense of right and wrong instilled at a young age, and he had not really had that. The church had tried and almost succeeded, but how could he love his neighbor when he committed genocide? Multiple counts of genocide? How could he not believe that killing someone was a solution when someone important to him was in danger, permanently neutralizing the threat?

He continually saw the worst in people, and somewhere along the way, he forgot to see the best in people.

And, he was not sure that would ever change if he stayed.

There are so many expectations for him now, and he is not sure he could be who everyone expected him to be.

Not really anyway.

He had been made for adapting and for survival, but he should be done with that by now. He is past eighteen, legally an adult and able to make his own decisions. There was not a war for him to fight in, and that brief period of peace he had lived after the first taught him that a conventional life was not for him. He abhorred rules and normality.

And, quite honestly, he just wanted to be happy. To remember how that felt like or even figure out if he ever felt like that.

Since he realized that he was not happy, the itch had started becoming a constant presence.

The other pilots expected him to become a Preventer, work under Une to continue to spread peace. It was a worthy goal, do not get him wrong, but he was not the pilot suited for that work. And, he did not like to feel backed into a corner, which was exactly what was unspoken about the situation.

He was too dangerous to be left without supervision. After all, he was the pilot who knowingly and in full control of his actions committed multiple counts of genocide, who had espionage training and experience, and who could tear a government apart from the inside out or outside in. And, he fully admitted that he would do it again.

So, it was the unspoken fact that it was work for the government or be hunted. They would release all the classified information about him they were holding back from the public, categorize him as a terrorist, and he would be imprisoned.

He did not like being backed in a corner.

Sometimes, he realizes, people forget how intelligent he is, hidden behind his verbose nature and nicknames. He has always used it to his advantage and now was absolutely no different.

He started by getting rid of Duo Maxwell, systematically burning all paper documents and erasing electronic footprints. Since the fact that child soldiers were the pilots, there was not a large paper trail, as they wanted to mitigate the risk for information being released to the public.

He felt the itch decrease with the last document gone.

Next, he started to create who he was going to be next. Several identities were created with false paper trails, while he took the old school way to get out of town when he sent the authorities on a proper wild goose chase. He ends up in a crummy old motel fairly close to the headquarters and begins to reinvent himself.

He had his vengeance during the war, and he had begun the change with his most distinguishable feature. The old animated movie Mulan had made it look easy to cut through hair, but it was more of a sawing motion with the knife he had at the base of his braid, and it left uneven hacked hair to flutter around his face. He takes electric razor next, shearing off the hair to leave him with a buzz cut.

He looked… not like Duo Maxwell.

The itch lessened.

With a touch of a smile, he continued to make his escape.

-/-

"Cheer up," the waitress grins at the regular, the young man giving her a cynical look she merely gives a cheerful laugh at.

"No matter how many times you say it, it doesn't mean I am going to do it," the man states to the young woman, who merely waves him off.

"It's been two weeks, it's no longer a comment. It's my diner name for you. Cheer Up. Like how that woman over there is Cat Lady and that man is Carl, like from that old movie Up – a crotchety older fellow," the waitress leans forward to explain to him quietly.

"Well, I don't have much to be cheerful about," the man states instead of commenting on her penchant for nicknames. He is not really sure who he is right now, but Cheer Up will do as good as anything for someone he does not plan to see long term.

Running a hand over the short bristles of his hair, he over reaches, still looking for the length of hair that he cut upon his escape. Not even a fully-grown adult yet, and he felt the need to completely reinvent himself.

"So, sticking around for much longer?" the waitress asks a little while later after he sorts his bill.

"Maybe," he shrugs, standing and slipping on his jacket.

Eventually, he makes his way to Russia, finding himself stuck in an alleyway after witnessing something he should not have seen, hands up in the air as a gun is pointed at him. He barely makes out the Russian he knows, asking for his name.

"Cheer Up," he responds absently. It is the closest he had to a name since he shed the soldier he was.

"Cherep?" repeats the mafia man in response before continuing his rant.

He barely feels the bullet enter his skull, but he wakes up hours later as the sun is rising with flakes of blood drying on his face. A laugh bubbles up from his lips, and he absently thinks that he is having that nervous breakdown he never allowed himself to have. Because, out of all the crazy in his life, he had thought a bullet to the head would finally be the end. Death just won't take him.

He ambles his way back to his motel room, taking advantage of his training to make his way unseen through the back entrances, shedding his clothes as soon as he enters his room and making his way to the shower.

It is only afterwards, as he wipes a hand across the mirror to get rid of the steam that he sees his hair is an alarming shade of violet. Touching the short strands absently, his eyes are drawn back to the mirrored shade. The last time he really remembered dying, in the fire with the screams of the massacre surrounding him, he had woken up to find his eyes violet.

"What the fuck," he murmurs to himself absently, running a hand over his face and closing his eyes. He breathes in and out deeply before opening his eyes to meet his image. "Nope, still purple."

He makes himself scarce from the motel after cleaning the evidence of his stay, entering a library not far away to use the computer.

While thinking of where to start, he begins with his conversation with his mafia friends, typing 'CheerUp' together into the search bar.

Cherep means skull. It is morbid, from a slightly interesting and humorous beginning. It is almost poetic in a way, and the mischievous part of him cannot resist.

It will work for now.

He goes about forging the documents and records for Cherep, more thorough than the temporary identities he had been going through every week.

Later that month, Cherep stumbles upon a sign for a circus and nostalgia brings him to sneak in through the tent to watch the rehearsal.

There, he sees a strong man coax flames around his body, and suddenly, Cherep has an idea of where he needs to be to learn about the flames and investigate why death seems to hate him.

Cherep starts to find his new identity, to put a personality and ambition to the framework of a name.

-/-

As stated in my profile, please do not leave any negative reviews or comments on grammar or anything. This is purely for fun to write, and I don't really want any constructive criticism, etc.

Also, I have a few different directions this would eventually go in. To start in those directions, what would you like to see for the paring?

Skull x Reborn

Skull x Tsuna

Skull x Reborn x Tsuna


	2. Arcobaleno

Posted 7 August 2019

I was not going to actually post anything for this so soon, as most of what I had written was later on after Skull and Tsuna meet. Most of the comments I have received have been for a Reborn/Skull pairing, so for now, I am going to set it up so both would work and decide a little later on, because the romance won’t be for awhile yet. 

-///-

Skull’s first thought is that his head feels like it got run over by a train.

Skull’s second thought is that this is not where he went to bed. 

Unfortunately, Skull had too many experiences waking up somewhere he did not remember that his body automatically remembers what to do. He stays still, keeping his breathing steady as he listens. There are voices around the room, and he counts several dialects, including Italian and Chinese for starters. There are six different voices, a few female and the remaining male. He cannot smell anything past the scent of freshly baked cookies, and he feels cushioning of a sofa below him with his motorcycle helmet pressed awkwardly against his ribs and the back of the sofa. 

That was not much information to go on. 

Well, when there is little information, playing dumb is always the best option. Letting out a groan, he stretches and blinks open his eyes, widening at the smirking face of a handsome Italian man with dark eyes staring at him.

“Chaos,” the man drawls, voice smooth. “My name is Reborn.”

“I am the great Skull-sama,” Skull answers on automatic, keeping his response simple and to the point. After all, only give enough information that the people can find on their own and nothing personal. Stick to the truth as much as possible. Standard interrogation tactics. “Do I smell cookies?”

Which is also an interrogation tactic, plying the targets with food and drink to provide a false sense of security. As Skull sits up, eyes taking in the room, he wonders whom the target is.

“This is not where Skull-sama went to sleep,” he states, looking around the room. It is airy and light, a seating area that connects to a small kitchen. The cookies he smells are in the middle of a rather large table for the space, circular with seven chairs. Immediately, he stands, zooming over to the cookies and taking a bite of one from the untouched plate; the rest of the room rightfully suspicious of the food, but Skull had long since passed the point where he could die from poison. A younger girl is beaming at him as he says through a mouth full of cookie. “Where are we?”

“This is the meeting place of the Strongest Seven,” the younger girl gives easily. “I am Luce.”

“Ah, nice ta meet ya,” slurs Skull easily, reaching out and shaking her hand. “I am the great Skull-sama.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Skull,” she answers, her smile exuding… something. Skull takes a step away from her, not liking whatever she is doing with her flames. It feels sickly sweet, like cough syrup gone bad. And, she does not play along with his greeting, despite her outer niceness, not even adding an honorific of any kind. It shows that she thinks she is better than him in some way, that she has earned his awe or respect. Skull highly doubts she will ever earn his awe or respect.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Skull curses suddenly as the memories of last night come to him. “Some cosplayer knocked me out! Is this a kidnapping? Are you demanding a ransom?”

He directs this towards Luce, automatically assuming her as the one owning this place, and thus the one with answers despite the fact the rest of the room is much more intimidating and powerful. Luce looks taken a back by his accusation.

“You did not get the offer to join the Strongest Seven?” Luce inquires hesitantly. “You were asleep on the sofa when we first got here, so…”

“Unconscious!” corrects Skull flamboyantly, gesturing with his cookie and sending a spew of crumbs towards the other female at the table, a woman of military bearing. He smirks internally at the disgusted face she makes as she wipes crumbs from her hair. “Skull-sama was unconscious! Who would do this to the great Skull-sa-“

“Alright, that is enough,” cuts off the Chinese man. His face is peaceful, almost amused by the tirade. Skull feels a bit of fondness for this man appreciating the lengths of the dramatics he is going through. “We all received invitations to join the Strongest Seven. From my deductions, you are the Cloud.”

“Cloud? Skull-sama is a person,” Skull corrects, playing ignorant. These people, whoever they are, move like predators, like they are trained. He would rather play ignorant civilian than try to assume what faction they are associated with. 

“They sent a civilian,” the military woman interjects in disbelief, her tone slightly derisive. Skull notes the rest of the faces each show some small signs of surprise.

“Well, he’s not a civilian anymore,” Luce comments easily, and Skull dislikes her a little more at that. It is like she has scripted her reactions, like she already has information on all of them. “Skull, there is something called Dying Will Flames of the Sky that are a symbol of the mafia, though civilians and military are able to activate them. They are like fingerprints, different and unique to individuals and categorized in seven different types: sky, myself; storm, Fon; rain, Lal; sun, Reborn; lightening, Verde; mist, Viper; and cloud, you.” 

As she introduces each type, she points to the people around the room.

“We were requested to complete a job,” Luce continues, Skull’s eyebrows furrow.

“What job?” he questions immediately. “Skull-sama already has a job. He is the greatest stuntman in the world.”

“Can’t we get another Cloud?” interjects Verde, impatiently. “This one obviously doesn’t know about the mafia and doesn’t want to be here.”

“I’m sorry,” Luce shakes her head. “It must be the strongest cloud, and Skull is the strongest. We will find out the details of the job in five days. Until then, we are stuck here. There are rooms prepared upstairs for everyone. I suggest we get to know each other in the interim.”

Skull is unsure how to react to that. 

What he does know is that he is being backed into a corner and the itch is starting again.

-///-

One thing Skull prides himself in is being able to push people’s buttons, and it is something he takes full advantage of as an information gathering technique. 

The first day stuck in the cottage in the middle of nowhere is spent making himself known. He follows the others around, bursts into rooms and observes what the ‘Strongest Seven’ do in their down time. 

The second day, he starts small. 

People tend to reveal a lot about themselves the more paranoid or annoyed they get, and Skull really wants these people to reveal themselves.

The first person, and probably the easiest to find a trigger, is Reborn. 

Skull focuses on the espresso machine, adding anchovies’ oil to the inside of the drip and causing an unpleasant flavor to the resulting beverage. Skull is impressed when Reborn’s only reaction is a slight scrunch of his nose and a glance at the machine. Reborn spends the next few hours cleaning the machine in a manner very similar to how the man cleaned his guns the previous evening. It is meticulous and makes Skull wonder if the man is making a weapon from the espresso machine.

The second person is Lal.

Skull is almost unsure if he wants to associate with the militant woman, but it is almost too easy to find her trigger. Every time she would leave a room, he would move her possessions just the slightest bit. Lal is obsessive compulsive and everything must be in order. The lack of safety in her environment increases her paranoia. Skull does not focus on her for long, as she is almost too easy to break. He finds that rather disappointing, actually.

The third person is Viper.

Viper’s weakness is greed, charging for even the tiniest amount of information. Skull would spend the short conversations with Viper talking about inane things and following up with a yes or no question. From Viper’s body language, he would obnoxiously answer for Viper. He could tell when Viper began to avoid him that they were annoyed with Skull’s correct guesses and did not want to give more information away for free, the lack of money like a stab to the heart. Skull gave a cheerful goodbye to the mist, as if he had no idea what he had been doing.

The forth person is Verde.

Verde is another easy guess. All Skull has to do is be obnoxious and in the way. Every time Verde would experiment, Skull would do something that would invalidate the results. If something needed observation at a certain time, Skull would play with the stopwatches. If the two mice were supposed to feed on a schedule of certain items, Skull would feed them cheese ‘like he sees on TV’. Verde vexes easily, but it is more relating to frustration that no one could keep up with his intelligence and see the world in the same way he did.

The fifth person is Fon. 

Fon is difficult to figure out, mainly because the man is so… zen. Skull found the man had certain times of the day when he would meditate or complete exercises. When he did this, Fon liked for their to be silence or the sound of nature. In other words, Fon did not appreciate man made noises. So, Skull would find a way to be near by, playing music or hiding phones that were on short alarms for certain times. Fon is zen, but only if he is able to meditate peacefully. If interrupted, Fon becomes more and more… storm-like. 

The sixth person is Luce.

Honestly, Skull does not really need to approach Luce to annoy her. He already knows that she is hiding information. He already knows that something here is for her gain. So, when annoying Luce, it is more for pettiness than for information, a series of unfortunate, unrelated events like turning off the alarm for her cookies or making her shower head burst.

The majority of their reactions told Skull a lot about the group, and it unfortunately told Skull that he also should not have targeted Reborn first. 

“So, what did you find out?”

Skull studies the dark haired Italian. Where the rest of the group tended to put off his interruptions and annoyance as part of Skull’s personality, Reborn had observed the way Skull purposefully sought them out. 

“Dunno,” Skull shrugs, playing more towards ignorant curiosity rather than purposeful espionage. After all, he could play this as a master stuntman has to know his audience. “You’re adaptable, Lal is OCD, Viper is greedy, Verde has a short fuse, and Fon is a zen master.”

Reborn arches a brow, and the way he moves towards Skull reminds him of jungle cats, power and grace. “All apt descriptions, but I noticed you did not mention Luce.”

“She’s… cough syrup,” Skull finally gives. Maybe, providing some honesty will help gain more information.

“Cough syrup?” Reborn repeats, rolling it off his tongue slowly and thoughtfully.

“Yeah, like she is really sweet, but nothing that I would want if I had the choice,” Skull watches as Reborn tilts his head, a smirk curling upon his lips. 

“Perhaps,” Reborn agrees easily, turning away.

“How’d you know?” asks Skull. He was not exactly hiding what he was doing, after all these were too close of quarters to really commit to espionage.

“I know chaos when I see it,” Reborn leaves him with. 

Skull places that bit of information on Reborn’s list as well. The man approves of anything that disrupts the norms, which would be unpredictable. 

A smile creeps upon Skull’s face. He could get behind that.

-///-

Skull cannot believe that he has been demoted to the lookout. 

If he had known that acting the ignorant civilian would have gotten him stuck in the role of lookout, he might have blown his cover. Actually, probably not, but still. This job looks really cool, and he is stuck on the ground, watching Reborn dangling from a fire escape by his knees and aiming a sniper rifle upside down. 

“There is no way you can make that shot,” Skull states into his earpiece microphone in disbelief, playing into his civilian role. He could make that shot easy, but he had never seen anyone outside of himself and the other pilots who had extensive enough training to make that shot.

“Want to bet?” Reborn’s silky voice responds in his ear. The Italian only sounds faintly amused by the disbelief, and Skull kind of wants to punch the man at the same time he feels equally amused. 

“For what?” Skull stays in character, now more sure that Reborn will make the shot since the man will bet on it. 

“If I make this shot, you have to be my coffee lackey,” Reborn responds, and Skull hears the faint laughter from the others across the line at the bet. “Be prepared to fetch me my espresso.”

At that, Reborn takes aim, and Skull, in character, cannot help but protest in an effort to throw off Reborn’s shot. “Hey, what about what I get if I win the-“

The gun shot echoes through the air. 

Skull is not surprised that Reborn makes the shot. 

In the future, he will regret not having enough time to put a limit on how long he has to be the lackey. 

-///-

“Where are you going?” asks Luce, watching Skull with his backpack prepare to leave.

“Well, the job is done. The great Skull-sama has to return for his shows,” Skull declares, watching her beneath his bravado.

“But, we have another job,” Luce protests, and her sickly sweetness has been raised up a notch. 

The itch is increasing.

-///-

The planning for the second job makes Skull pout.

“Why do I have to be the lookout again?” Skull whines in annoyance. He knows what will happen if he never protests. He will get lumped into a box and stuck in the same position indefinitely, like how normal people who do not show ambition do not get promoted. 

“Because you are a civilian,” Lal immediately intones. She seems to like Skull more than the others, probably because he is only a civilian and not a criminal. However, Skull avoids her the most with her military background. He does not want any connection to anything that could connect him back to the Preventers. Also, she reminds him of Heero at the beginning, rule oriented, the perfect little soldier that has a touch of entitlement. It is off-putting.

“Well, Skull-sama could be more than a civilian,” Skull pouts, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“This isn’t expected to be long term, so there is no benefit in training you,” Fon looks faintly apologetic at the words, taking the sting off what could have been slightly insulting. Skull does not hold it against Fon and personally agrees with the sentiment. However, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Luce and the flicker of a grimace at the words. 

Another mark against her on the list. He notices Reborn and Fon both catch the action as well.

“Skull-sama could be the getaway driver!” grins Skull suddenly after several minutes, interrupting the current thread of conversation. At the stares he receives, he immediately throws out. “Skull-sama is the greatest stuntman in the world. Excellent at driving all sorts of vehicles.”

“Through bullets and explosions?” Reborn asks curiously.

“Skull-sama used to do driving for movies… before Skull-sama started his own show,” confirms Skull with a nod. Besides Lal and Luce, the rest of the group seems to be considering it. 

Reborn finally looks back at Skull with a slightly sadistic grin.

“Prove it.”

Skull’s own grin meets the challenge.

-///-

Skull knew he should have escaped when he had the chance, looking in disbelief around the group of miniaturized Arcobalenos.

“No!” wails Skull at his small form. “It’s like a, a, a bad Disney movie! I don’t want to be cursed. I’m not a princess!”

And, that about sums up the beginning of a few long decades.

-///-

I’m going to be completely honest. Though I am writing this crossover, I’ve never actually watched or read either of these. All of my knowledge comes from fanfiction and wiki. So, this is completely my take from what I know, so I hope it fits well enough to make the characters recognizable. They will change the more it goes on, because I believe that their personalities would have been different before the curse.

Keep letting me know about the pairing vote and if there is anything that you would like to see.


	3. Denial and Obsession

Posted 5 November 2019

Honestly, I had the majority of this written for a while, but it wasn’t quite where I wanted it to be. I felt kind of bad for the wonderful reviewers who kept commenting, so here is my gift to you… an update.

-///-

The first few weeks of the curse were not terrible, but that was probably because of the denial.

Besides Luce, who was being generally ignored by everyone, all of the Arcobaleno held out hope that there was a chance to reverse it. They still clung to their adult minds and bodies, and it took several weeks before their emotions began to falter to baser, more childish instincts and for them to understand that they had to train these new bodies to be able to protect themselves just as well as their adult bodies. 

Verde, in particular, applied mind over matter more than any of them in order to become coordinated enough to even begin to get past the initial lack of coordination and start to find some sort of reversal. 

Even still, as the weeks went on, they lost more and more of their selves and their adult focus to their new bodies. It took awhile for them to get past denial, and the rage took years to fade. 

It took a long time to accept it, the hopelessness of the situation, and decide to make the best of it that they could.

Still, Skull looks back on those first several weeks of denial rather fondly. 

RAIN

“So,” drawls Skull, internally winces at the high-pitched sound of his voice. He scoots closer to the small blonde figure sitting beside a rather disgruntled chibi wearing a gray pacifier. It had taken a week after the curse settled before they all started digging themselves out of the first stages of denial. In that time, Lal had tried to cordon the blonde away from the criminals. “You’re Lal’s boyfriend?”

“Well, no-“ denies the blonde chibi, Skull holds up a hand to cut him off. 

“Don’t worry, Colonello, the great Skull-sama understands,” Skull wanes dramatically.

“You do, do you?” deadpans Lal, small scowl frankly adorable to Skull. Actually, all the Arcobaleno looked adorable to him. He is almost afraid to pause and really look and see what his reflection showed. 

“Yes, it is a modern tale,” Skull alludes, patting Colonello on the back in consolation. “She played hard to get, caved to her student and her desires, but unable to express her love in public! Your love will be told in a tale like Romeo and Juliet or, or, Nowaki and Hiroki!”

“Who?” Colonello asks in confusion.

“Romeo and Juliet committed suicide,” Lal interjects, her disbelief and frustration clear across her face. “And, we are not a couple. My idiot student just chose to –“

“Don’t take it personally, senpai,” Skull reassures Colonello and ignoring Lal. “The insults are a way she shows her love.”

“Skull!”

“Oh, is that the time? I think Reborn is looking for me. Gotta go!”

The cloud disappears surprisingly quick for a civilian in an uncoordinated body. 

SUN, Part 1

“So…,” Reborn trails off, looking at the panting cloud. Skull gives his elder a sheepish look. “You’ve annoyed Lal again?”

“I didn’t mean to,” denies Skull, Reborn huffing a small chuckle at the faux innocence. Skull sulks a little. “It was for chaos.”

“Well, if it was for chaos,” agrees Reborn easily. Skull relaxes; Reborn always lets him off easier for the sake of chaos. “You should know that Lal is approaching, thirty meters at your six.”

Skull curses softly. 

LIGHTNING

“Whatcha doing, senpai?” Skull asks as he slinks into the room, catching sight of Verde and trying to act casual. The acting does not matter in the end, though, as Verde does not look up from what looked to be a small gun he is working on. 

“I am pursuing methods of weaponry that will suit our current bodies until I have a chance to research reversal of our situation,” Verde responds promptly. Skull grins at the explanation. Unlike Viper, Verde provides thorough information to whatever question Skull usually asks. The scientist has found that Skull goes away quicker if he just answers, and Skull is an adequate sounding board to his thoughts.

“Awesome,” Skull praises, taking a seat across the table and sliding some of the sketches and papers over to look at while Verde is distracted. After several long moments, he steals a blank set of papers and begins to sketch a miniaturized motorbike. “You think Transformer motorcycles are possible?”

Verde glances up briefly, eyebrows furrowing. 

“You know, like the – you have no idea, do you?” Skull cuts himself off dryly. “They are kind of like Gundams, but they can transform into normal everyday vehicles, though in the show they’re aliens… and I’ve lost you.”

Skull huffs a laugh as Verde goes back to his soldering, and he goes back to sketching his imagination bike. 

“I suppose it is possible,” Verde states after several minutes of silence, Skull looking up in surprise that the other had answered. “Minus the alien factor.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be heartbroken if they weren’t aliens,” Skull grins, leaning back in his seat in relaxation. “Skull-sama can picture it now, jumping from a motorcycle only to be encased in a body suit like Iron Man… that reference went over you as well.”

Verde arches a brow. 

“Okay, senpai, Skull-sama sees it’s time to get out of your hair,” Skull dismisses himself easily, quickly moving to the next room. 

Verde looks at the empty doorway for a long moment in contemplation before placing his soldering tool on its holder and sliding the papers that Skull had been doodling on across the table. He stares at the roughly drafted blueprints in thought. 

“Huh.”

SKY

Skull curses under his breath, sitting beside the crying Sky and patting her back awkwardly. “There, there.”

He can sympathize a little, remembering the days of his youth when he was shut in safe houses with four other hostile teens each more paranoid of the other. The situation is slightly different here, though. Unlike back then, it was just the healthy paranoia of war that ensured their survival and lead to the eventual comradery. Here and now, this is different. Luce knew what she was doing. She knew what was going to happen to them. And, she did it anyway. 

If anyone deserved to feel a little shunned, he honestly thought she and her cough syrup deserved it. 

Though, this crying was disrupting him way too much. He could not avoid the noise, and if he could just get her to be quietly depressed… it may be worth his effort to not avoid her, just this once. 

“Thank you, Skull,” she sniffles, taking the tissue he hands her. He inwardly scowls at her address. There is a genuine note to her voice, but there is still that air of falseness that makes his skin crawl. 

“Not a problem! Skull-sama is here to help,” he states cheerfully, nonchalantly moving away from her in small increments. 

He feels it again, just then, the cough syrup prodding at him. He knows what she is doing, the forced harmonization. This is the last time he will offer comfort. He will just have to get earplugs. 

Nodding to himself, he begins to make a show of squirming uncomfortably. 

“Skull-sama has to go now,” he states abruptly, vanishing from the area too quickly for her to comprehend and leaving her sniffling with her box of tissues. 

What a bitch.

MIST

“You are safe to come out now,” the disembodied voice states dryly, and Skull starts from his place in the ceiling.

“Will it cost me if I do?” Skull inquires.

“I’ve been charging you since the conversation started,” Viper replies back. Skull sighs, opening the vent above the fridge and dropping on top. He catches sight of the time on the microwave.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it was so late… time for a nice drink before bed,” Skull states to himself. He hopes down onto the counter, glancing at the cloaked Viper standing in the doorway. “Would you like a drink?”

“What are you having?” Viper asks. There is a hint of drowsiness to the mist. 

“I’m thinking chocolate milk,” Skull grins, pulling himself into the upper cabinet to look at the tops. “Score, chocolate syrup.”

“I don’t like chocolate very much,” Viper states, sounding slightly less enthused. 

“Do you like strawberry milk? There is strawberry syrup, too,” Skull asks, poking his head from behind the cupboard door. 

Viper stays silent for a moment. “I’ve never tried it.”

“Great! We will give it a shot,” Skull enthuses, hopping out with the two bottles. He takes another hop to get glasses before making his way to the fridge to get the milk. 

Viper watches him as he moves the ingredients over to the table with the cups and spoons from the drawer.

“The key,” Skull starts, pouring the milk and syrup into the cups and stirring vigorously. “Is to use glasses that are actual glass… or ceramic, I suppose. Just don’t use plastic or metal or wood. It taints the flavor, though the spoons are okay to be metal. It is best to shake them to mix, if you have the right stuff available.”

Viper eyes the pink concoction Skull slides over, watching as Skull takes a sip of his chocolate milk and comes away with a brown mustache dying his white makeup, an impression of dark lipstick left on the glass. 

“Ah,” sighs Skull, shoulders relaxing. “That hits the spot.”

Viper picks up their own glass, tentatively tasting the beverage. The widening of their eyes is hidden by the shadow of their hood. 

“So?” asks Skull eagerly. 

“Adequate,” Viper replies, taking another sip. Skull beams at them, going back to his own milk.

It is a compatible silence, sitting drinking their late night beverages. 

“Well, time for bed,” Skull declares, rinsing his glass in the sink and hoping from the counter. He pauses at the doorway. “By the way, how much is this going to cost me?”

Viper leaves a moment of silence. “I’ll consider the beverage payment.”

Skull’s eyes widen in surprise before a soft grin overwhelms his face. “Alright. Good night, senpai.”

Viper follows Skull’s lead shortly thereafter, retiring to their own room and removing their cloak once safely behind their walls. 

Looking in the bathroom mirror before brushing their teeth, Viper sees a smile in their reflection. 

Above the smile is a pink mustache. 

STORM

“Good morning, Fon-senpai!” greets Skull enthusiastically, watching Fon startle out of his tai chi pose, still unstable from the sudden chibization. “Oh, whoops, sorry, senpai.”

Fon straightens, giving a serene smile. “Good morning, Skull. There is no harm done.”

Skull grins, rocking between the heels and balls of his feet. Fon eyes him for a moment, before hesitantly offering. 

“Would you like to join me?”

“Skull-sama would love to join senpai!”

The purple haired chibi toes of his boots and places them on the grass beside his helmet before eagerly joining Fon on the lawn.

“Alright, follow my lead,” Fon smiles, moving through the movements with slow and stead precision. After a few moments, he comments. “You are very good at this.”

“Skull-sama knows all sorts of dances and gymnastics from his time in the circus,” offers Skull easily, watching Fon with sharp, observing eyes that conflict with his happy go lucky expression. Fon inwardly notes that, wondering if Skull is always so observant. It is difficult to tell, considering his habit of wearing his motorcycle helmet the majority of the time. 

Still, there is something about Skull that is peaceful, while at the same time dangerous. It is very much like actual clouds - if Fon could see the cloud, he could predict the weather. Would it be sunny or rainy? Or, would it be lightening with a storm? Or, would the clouds be a mist to uncover a sky? 

Somehow, Fon thinks that Skull is more apt to be the calm before the storm - the warning sign for destruction to come. Based on his past, he also knows that more flies can be caught with honey. 

Skull has the potential to be very dangerous. How? Fon is not so sure yet. He does know that when Skull will be dangerous, he would like to be on the same side. 

SUN, Part 2 

“You are not doing it right.”

Skull huffs in frustration, looking up from the complicated espresso machine to meet Reborn’s mischievous, dark eyes from across the counter.

“Well, perhaps senpai would show Skull-sama how to use it?” Skull replies in a sugary sweet tone. Reborn scoffs, not buying the sugary act for a moment. 

“All you had to do was ask, lackey,” Reborn states smoothly, and Skull feels a little bit dumbfounded at that. 

“Really? If Skull-sama asked you, you would have just helped?” Skull cannot help but feel like that conflicts with what he has learned about Reborn and his chaos thus far. 

“Of course,” Reborn nods easily, moving over to the counter beside Skull. “My help is not always free, but in this case, it benefits me to teach you.”

Skull narrows his eyes, and he sees a hint of a smirk that is touching Reborn’s lips. Skull stands on the counter, pointing his small finger at Reborn accusingly. “You do that on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Reborn replies with a quirk of his brow. Skull huffs, not really frustrated so much as reluctantly amused.

Of course, Reborn is a lover of chaos and, as such, likes to remain unpredictable. Just when you think you know who he is, he turns around and does something you would not expect. But, as Skull is attentively paying attention to Reborn showing him how to use the much too complicated machine, he also notes this is the first time he sees a hint of sun not so cleverly hidden.

Reborn likes teaching, and he likes healing. It is evident in the way he explains the buttons, cautions against where to touch and where not to prevent injury. 

Reborn just dislikes predictability more. 

Well, Skull has to say only one thing to that. 

Challenge accepted.

Skull hides his smirk as he presents his perfectly made cup of espresso to Reborn fifteen minutes later, watches as the man turned chibi inhales the beverage and closes his eyes briefly to savor it. 

Yes, Skull sees Reborn and the mushy layer hidden deep, deep inside. He is probably a romantic at heart, too. 

A voice in his head is chiming in warning. 

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

Skull cannot help it though, some sick part of his mind ignoring his better judgment. To be fair, listening to his better judgment was probably trained out of him when he was convinced being a child soldier was a smarter option than staying out of it. He will blame the government - that sounds like a smart idea.

Oh, well.

“Awe! Reborn-senpai is so good to Skull-sama,” he coos, continuing at a wail. “No one ever told Skull-sama how kind and squishy Reborn-senpai is, teaching Skull-sama to make espresso.”

Skull gives Reborn something. The chibified man lasts through the rest of his espresso listening to Skull waning poetically before his blissful face disappears and cold, dark eyes seem to sparkle as they lock onto their target. 

“Would you care to repeat that, lackey?”

Skull gives the appropriate, dramatic scream as he runs to hide. He shoves his motorcycle helmet upon his head, half to protect him, but mostly to hide the smirk growing on his face. 

Worth it.

EXPLOSION

When it blows up, eleven weeks into being cursed, it is a spectacular event that ends in the Arcobaleno parting ways for several years to come.

The Arcobaleno had regressed to their childish instincts to match their equally childish bodies and had begun to cling obsessively onto some facets of their adult selves in order to keep a shred of sanity.

Lal is the first to leave, her moral code strengthening. She does not want to be involved with these criminals she is cursed with, but is unable to return to where she had come. She had made her bed, and now she had to make the best of lying in it. She ends up with the CEDEF and Vongola, clinging to justice and her versions of right and wrong. 

Her obsession is justice.

Colonello, left behind by Lal, ends up at Mafia Land without purpose or direction. Without guidance, he falls back to his protective instincts to protect the land he found himself in. It was a distraction really, a way to pass the time and mourn the abandonment of Lal. 

His obsession is protection.

Verde attempted and attempted to find a cure, something that would return them to their adult bodies. As the failures began to pile up more and more, he lost more and more of his mind to the madness. At some point, his moral compass end up skewed with his sadistic attempts to succeed. There was no limit or barrier to stopping him. Nothing was right or wrong.

His obsession is success.

In a world of mists and mirages, Viper always needed grounded to reality, a way to bring themselves back. So, Viper clings to the one that has always made sense – money. Money is simple, like their illusions. It had no real substance or value, but it was perceived to have value. Money could be exchanged, it could be quantified. They were never as stingy and possessive of money before the curse. It was more of an amusing ruse, to see who would pay and who would not. Now, money was the only thing that made sense. 

Their obsession is materialism.

Reborn had spent many years becoming the best. The best hitman, the best teacher, the best healer. Simple as that. Reborn had always been the best. He focuses on becoming that again, a name revered for his achievements. So, he trains his body and mind and skills until he was better than he had been in the body of an adult. He overcompensated for his diminished stature and became focused on becoming the best again. The best always. He resorts to something more petty and sadistic than he used to be in face of anyone questioning his outward appearance not matching his skill. He cannot stop himself from proving them wrong. That he was the great Reborn.

His obsession was ambition.

In his youth, Fon had spent many long hours angry at everything, a hair trigger to the slightest change in emotions. Many years in the future, his sister would look to her son fondly, reminding her of her beloved older brother in his youth. Fiercely protective and destructive. After all, his loss of control as a youth brought on his original resolve to focus his emotions and not act on impulse and emotions. As he regressed mentally and emotionally to match his newly chibified body, his routines went into overtime. He could not lose himself to emotions once more. He could not take the risk. 

His obsession was control. 

There was a childish side to Skull, something he exploited to lower rising tensions as he grew older. He had known when to get serious though, when comic relief was a hindrance rather than an asset. Skull had never really had the chance to be a child, though, so some eccentricies were to be expected. Unfortunately, it seemed that regressing in age took that judgment on when his playfulness was acceptable away. He flipped from one whim to another. He got too in touch with his childish side a bit too well, playing up the ignorant act and really showing the effects of the curse when someone stepped foot into his territory. They call it his tantrums. And, by they, he means the other Arcobaleno days after he leaves, since he absolutely leaves no witnesses. He goes wherever the wind takes him. 

His obsession was drifting. 

Unknowingly, the regression in mental age is worse apart than when they are together. The obsessions are amplified to keep a semblance of control. They manage to fool everyone into thinking that besides their chibified bodies, the Arcobaleno are just as good small. 

Everyone besides each other, that is. 

The Arcobaleno take several years to reunite, but when they do there is more of an understanding between them. A desire among each to make sure that no one takes advantage of them, that they are a united front. 

But, it is still several years away. 

-///-

Like I said, this isn’t quite where I wanted it to be, but I’ve had it sitting mostly done for awhile and felt it was best just to post it. And, as I've mentioned, I haven't really watched/read either of these, so please let me know if I stray too far into OOC-land. 

From the majority response in the comments, it looks like this will be a Skull x Reborn fiction. Which is actually going to be interesting to write, as originally I had a lot of scenes for a Skull x Tsuna. Oh well, maybe I’ll post a separate fic with those if I get the motivation. 

Please review and comment. I appreciate all ideas and suggestions.


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